


What Price Honor

by helens78



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Bondage, Community: multikinkmemes, Dubious Consent, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Ned Stark has a price.  Trouble is, he's grown to like paying it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Price Honor

_Everything has a price, Stark. Even you._

It was true, but Ned hated Littlefinger for saying it out loud. He looked down at his hands, tied with leather and crossed in front of him; he put his teeth together as Petyr pressed forward, _inside him_ , cock so damnably much thicker than his nickname implied. It was wrong, a lie, a betrayal, and Ned's body craved it as much as he hated being made to do it.

Thank the gods Petyr didn't talk while he was at it; if he'd pushed Ned now, it would have gone badly for him. Hands tied or not, Ned could have fought his way out of this, could have pinned Petyr to the ground and forced the breath from him. That would have shut him up, maybe, but his eyes would still have had that deep, knowing look to them, the look that said _I know all your secrets, Eddard Stark, and one of them lives in one of my brothels, five and thirty years and as beautiful as the day you left her behind..._

And gods, if she could see him now -- if she saw him now, she wouldn't remember him. She'd look at him and see a man tied and rooted, pushing back against Petyr Balish's cock as if he were a whore himself, panting for it, desperate to be filled and fucked and tumbled.

The first few times, Petyr had been kind about it, had almost made a point of giving as much pleasure as he took. He'd touched Ned's cock, learned from held breaths and soft sounds what Ned liked, and soon enough he'd managed to draw roars out of Ned, the hand on him tighter and better than any he'd had since the wars ended.

Now he was more clever and less kind, holding onto Ned's hips and hurting him, fucking him, reaming him until Ned shook with holding back. Oh, Ned could come this way, could gasp and shudder and shake until he was near to bursting, could filthy up Petyr's sheets with his seed. And he would, too, this time like the last time, but gods, gods, how had Petyr known?

Petyr's grip went tight, and that was the end of it; Ned gave up fighting, sinking down into the bed, muffling his moans against the blankets. Petyr sped up, deeper, _deeper_ , and Ned cursed him and came, pleasure blinding him and blotting out all his senses.

It was a mercy that Petyr never lingered. He slipped a gentle finger into the knot at Ned's wrists, undoing it, and kissed the back of Ned's neck.

"Tomorrow's no good for me, I've a meeting with the king," Petyr murmured. "The day after, then?"

Ned didn't answer, but then he didn't need to. He nodded, and Petyr left him, empty and aching and full of his spunk.

He'd get out of this bed and clean himself off soon enough, but for a few minutes, it was better to try to forget who he was, and think only about catching his breath and waiting for the ache in his ass to diminish. A few short minutes, when no one was watching, when he could stop cursing himself for wanting the next time to be now.


End file.
